


Freak on a Leash (I'm Taking Off My Collar)

by BleedxLikexMe, Half-Dead-And-Still-Fighting (BleedxLikexMe)



Series: The Little Black Spider in the Tiny Red Room [2]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol, Bleeding from places you shouldn't be bleeding from, Blood, Cigarettes, Drug Use, Drunkenness, F/F, Fighting, Gen, Gore, Marijuana, Murder, Natalia kills people, Partying, Piercings, Rebellion, Recreational Drug Use, Red Room, Red Room fuckery, Smoking, Swearing, Tattoos, The Red Room, Very Minor Drug Use, Weed, black outs, death of oc's, neck snapping, pot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:10:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedxLikexMe/pseuds/BleedxLikexMe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedxLikexMe/pseuds/Half-Dead-And-Still-Fighting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalia is on the run from the Avengers and SHIELD and it's all going very well, thank you very much. Well. Correction. It's going well until she slaughters a tall blond man with blue eyes in an alley. But before that she was just fine.</p><p>(Direct sequel to 'What A Spider Does Best')</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freak on a Leash (I'm Taking Off My Collar)

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the warning tags. If I've missed something you think needs to be tagged, just leave me a comment and I'll take care of it.
> 
> Enjoy.  
> :)

Natalia has been on the run for three months. Three long months of running and nothing else. She's changed her vocabulary, updated it, if you will, and blends in better now than she ever has before. She is different, hidden beneath her web. She's cucooned and imerged a new Natalia. And she has stayed running. She's ran and run, but now, now she's taking a break from that. She's at a party. The kind of party Natasha wouldn't be caught dead at. Her hair is dyed black and she has piercings. Her tongue is pierced, as is her eyebrow, both of her cartliges, and her navel. She has tattoos spiraling along her body. Some in vibrant colors, others in stark black. Her whole body is marked in some new way and she feels free with it all.

She is free.

Natalia dances with the crowd. She grinds her hips against men and women alike, thrashing around when she feels like it, letting herself do whatever the fuck she wants. She's fucking free. It's wonderful. Being this in control. Being this free to do as she pleases. A part of her, the part that she scornfully knows is still Natasha, demands that she go back to the tower and tell the team what's wrong. Natalia ignores it.

She doesn't give a fuck. Sure, there was a deep burried programming inside her mind that makes her hate Cap. So what? It's not like she's going to see him, or any of them, ever again. So what's the point of freaking out over a little chunk of left over programming? Fuck the Red Room, man. The crowd cheers and throws bottles, screaming out "FUCK THE RED ROOM!" and Natalia realizes she's said that bit aloud.

She might be a bit drunk.

Considering she's had three times the amount of everyone in the room and smoked nearly a pound of weed, that doesn't surprise her. She knows exactly how much alcohol it takes for her to get drunk or high. She's experimented with it all. Right now, she's riding the coat tails of her buzz. It'll be gone in an hour or so but that's whatever, 'cause she will be too. The music screams and Natalia lets the basic violence of it wash over her, feed her in a way that she's been starved of for so long.

She fists another womans shirt and pulls her in for a long kiss, letting their metal studs clink against each other as their tongues swirl with the kiss. Natalia feels it the second the woman is trapped in her web. Trapped like a fly and Natalia knows the woman loves it. She can feel it in her pulse, in her muscles, in the energy she puts off. After a moment Natalia pushes away from the woman, releasing her from the could-be-might-be-should-be deadly web Natalia spins. Natalia twirls around and begins dancing again. Her hair is sticking to her face from how much she's sweating and it's beautiful. Natalia fucking loves it. She shoves her way outside and joins the bit brawl, throwing elbows and punches as she fucking pleases.

Too soon, everyone is tapping out. Whatever. Natalia wasn't even getting started. That was shit the baby agents at SHIELD were expected to go through and come out the other side of. Regardless, Natalia knows when to call it all quits. She bums a cigarette off of some stranger and laughs when the guy says the only reasons he's even got Pyramids is because he's broke. Natalia slips a fifty into his inner jacket pocket as she passes him and grins to herself.

Natasha would have never done that. Natalia does shit like that all the fucking time. She does as she fucking pleases and loves it. Natalia skips out on the party before the cops have a chance to come and she's walking through the nearly empty streets, enjoying the cold air against her over heated skin. She closes her to blink and when she opens them, she finds herself in an alleyway. It's almost pitch black in the alley and she's clutching something in her hands.

She glances down and sees the glint of a knife coated in slick blood. Natalia frowns. How the fuck did she get that? But then she hears a wet gurgling sound and she looks ahead of her. There's a man laying there, his neck cut so deep that his spinal collumn is showing, gleaming red over white. Natalia steps forward on the very tips of her toes, like a ballerina. She studies his face and wonders why he looks so familiar. He has golden blond hair, blue eyes, and he's big. Muscular. He's wearing khakis and a blue plaid shirt over a white t-shirt.

Natalia doesn't get it. Doesn't know why this dude looks so familiar. She searches around the alley, making sure she doesn't leave anything behind that could bring SHIELD down on her, and skips out. Taking the knife with her is stupid, but it's worse to leave it behind. She stops at a closed gas station and cleans herself up. She tucks her t-shirt into the back pocket of her black skinny jeans, leaving only her threadbare tank top, and leaves, making sure there's no evidence of her being there when she goes.

She leaves that town and heads onto the next. It would be stupid not to. She's blond this time. She's sliced off all of her tattoos and taken out her piercings. It only takes a week for the whole mess to heal perfectly, and then she's perky and happy, a whole new Natalia. She's not going to be a whole new person, 'cause fuck that. She was forced to do that her whole life. With the Red Room, with SHIELD. So yeah, she's just Natalia. She's a happy Natalia that gets a job at a large bookstore, just for shits and giggles, and leads a life full of morning jogs, Starbucks coffees, and bitching to coworkers about their boss.

She gets a new tattoo. This one is easily hidden and is simple. It starts a few inches under her left armpit and she plans to add more so it will go down to her hip. The font isn't anything elegant. It's just New Times Roman, size sixteen. The first line she gets done says I will be no ones puppet. The second she sees that emblazoned on her skin she knows she won't be cutting these off.

As she's heading to her apartment after work she blinks again and finds herself standing over another body. His neck is twisted back up and to the left. This one is different from the last, but still weirdly familiar. He isn't too tall, maybe a few inches taller than Natalia herself. But he's wearing brown slacks, a purple button up shirt that's wrinkled with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he's wearing brown velcro sandals on his feet. His hair is shaggy, soft looking, and he is clean shaven.

Natalia squats down so she's sitting on her heels, she rests her forearms on her knees, let's her hands dangle loosely, and looks him over. His eyes are fogged over with death, but she can see the brown-mixed-with-green color they are. They're beautiful, but looking at the man sends a shiver of fear down her spine. Guy looks like he'd be a force to be reckoned with when he got angry.

As Natalia checks over the crime scene for any evidence, she takes a second to wonder why she killed him. And why she killed the last one. It only takes two seconds for her to shrug it off and finish her check. Once she's satisfied that she won't be bringing SHIELD to her doorstep, she leaves the corpse and heads to her place, nonchalant as fuck, to pack.

She adds more to her tattoo. Same font. Same size. Different words. Different languages.

I am more than a Black Widow.

My body is mine to command.

Moy um moye sobstvennoye.

I am a killer.

YA hrishnyk.

Tá mé go leor agus tá mé amháin. 

She figures she's on a killing streak. Wouldn't be the first time, really. So she carries tiny would-be weapons around with her. A knitting needle, a long pen, a deck of cards, stuff like that. Within the next six months she drops three more bodies. A smartly dressed brunette business man (cocky asshole), a tall, well muscled, long haired blond (fucking loud!), a petite blond woman (science isn't all that important!) a dark haired man with truly amazing arms (didn't see me comin', did'ja?), and a curvy brunette woman with red glasses and a sweet smile. Natalia cries after she killed the woman and she doesn't know why.

By now, it's getting to her. Why the fuck is she killing these people? What if SH- wait. Who would come after her? She is just Natalia. Just an- an assassin? A girl from legal? No, she is a ballerina. Wait, no, she is a store worker. Why is she in America? Pochemu ona ne v Rossii? Mne nuzhno, chtoby vernut'sya k- mama. Texas is a long way from where she was right now.

Shit, her head hurts. She stumbles into a tall building, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth gushing blood and an inky black fluid. Her body is on autopilot now. She has no idea where she is- I need to get home to Papa!- and she doesn't know who she is- GinnyBeckaStephanieNatahlCoriAnyankaAnastasiaGrunhildaAmikaBeyllomoremoremore- but her body knows where to go. She ends up in a large living room, lights flashing between white and red, a siren wailing, she falls too her knees in front of the people she's slaughtered. They're staring at her and she shakes. Full body tremors wrack over her fram and she swallows back blood, black goo, and bile.

Blood and blackness dribbles past her lips and she doesn't know why she's talking, but she can't seem to stop. She's babbling- whispering, screaming, she doesn't know. She can't hear anything more than the blood pumping in her ears and her own muffled voice. She doesn't understand the words at first, but as her eyes fill with blood that hasn't been able to drip down her face, she gets it, "YA skomprometirovan. YA byln."

Natalia passes out and falls face first in her own pool of blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: *in order*
> 
> Moy um moye sobstvennoye  
> My mind is mine to command.
> 
> YA hrishnyk  
> I am a sinner.
> 
> Ta me go leor agus ta me amhain.  
> I am many, I am one.
> 
> Pochemo ona ne v Rossi? Mne nuzhno, chtoby vernut'sya k-  
> Why aren't I in Russia? I need to get back to-
> 
> YA skomprometirovan. YA byln.  
> I'm compromised. I am remade.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, I'll be coming back around with a computer to add italics and such since I can't do that when posting from my phone.
> 
> If you liked/didn't like something, feel free to comment and tell me. I love hearing from you guys. Getting comments helps me become a better writer and I can't tell you how much it means to me to know that I have something pointed out for me to work on.
> 
> Also, I don't have a Beta, so all mistakes are my own. I quickly read this over before posting it, but I can't promise there won't be any mistakes. Drop me a line if you spot something, m'kay?
> 
> -Ashley


End file.
